


Sorry I Gave You Craft-Supply Herpes (After PRIDE)

by totallyrandom



Series: Silent Stiles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Derek Hale, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Coming Out, Derek is a secret softy, Derek is not a shitty alpha, Derek tries to be a good Alpha, Derek's Loft, Getting Together, Glitter, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Pride, M/M, Stiles is a good dancer, The Jungle (Teen Wolf), a little bit angsty, apropos Demetri Martin joke, hangovers, showering together but not like that, silent stiles, the Sheriff loves steak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the morning after PRIDE and Stiles is mostly happy but kind of wrecked. He screamed himself so hoarse yesterday that he can’t talk. At all. He just wants to shower and then nap forever. Derek comes home from a long run to find Stiles in his loft, showering with the door wide open. He’s fully clothed and covered in glitter and too tired to figure out how to explain to Derek why he can’t go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry I Gave You Craft-Supply Herpes (After PRIDE)

If he could actually talk, Stiles would be spewing a string of curses a mile long. Instead he just sighs deeply. Repeatedly. He just wants to sleeeeeeep, but he can’t even sit down anywhere until he showers off his Pride hangover. Is it a hangover if you haven’t actually been to sleep yet? Whatever.

He’s too bleary and uncoordinated to wash with soap, but he thinks he feels up to shampooing. It’ll wash the rest of him off on the way down anyway, right? Good e-fucking-nough. Ugh, he’s getting water everywhere. He had tripped on his way in and pulled down the shower curtain so now the whole room is a soggy mess. He’s so not in any condition to mop this all up. Later. After his nap. Naaaaaaaaaap. Sooooooooon.

He hears footsteps at the bathroom door and snaps his head up, right as he was about to grab the shampoo bottle. Shit, he didn’t even close the door? Fuuuuuuuuck. He’s so dead.

“Wha…” Derek gasps out, still a bit winded from his run. Stiles tries to say hi and sorry, but no sound comes out so he just waves awkwardly.

Derek surveys the watery path of destruction with wide eyes. He doesn’t even realize he’s growling as he leans in to shut off the water, glaring at Stiles, who just hangs his head and looks ready to keel over. Derek reaches a hand out to grab Stiles a towel then stops. He turns back to the door, seriously considering just going out for another run and hoping this disaster is gone when he comes back.

“What …” he starts and stops again. What the hell do you say to someone who has apparently broken in to your apartment … to shower? Fully clothed. And covered in glitter. Just … how … he’s not even good at talking at the grocery checkout, and that’s a fairly routine conversation with few surprises. He can’t possibly … “What … ?”

 

 

Stiles opens his mouth again to talk and then just grits his teeth, wishing he knew sign language. He has no idea how to communicate simple concepts in less than 100 words, and this … is not simple. If he were a Hale, maybe he could make a sequence of eyebrow movements and then Derek could take it or leave it because of the whole murder-face thing. And he’s just so tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired. Everything seems like too much effort. He just wants to deglitter and nap. Naaaaaaaaap. He pantomimes sleeping on a pillow.

“Charades.” Derek says, unimpressed. Stiles nods wildly. He clasps his hands together and then makes the sleep gesture again, adding puppydog eyes for full effect.

Derek sighs. “Home. Sleep. I’ll …” he makes a vague gesture encompassing the bathroom. He frowns, trying to figure out how he’s ever going to get rid of the spills without ruining his towels with glitter. Forever.

Stiles frantically shakes his head no and begs again.

“What. Go. You’re … glitter. And dripping. Get in the Jeep. Go.”

Stiles shakes his head again and sits down in the tub, gripping at his hair. When he lets go and drops his hands between his knees, he notices that they’re covered in glitter too. He can’t stop staring at them, his face creased with worry. Derek stares at them too then sighs and leans in to turn on the bottom tap. He pours some body wash onto Stiles’s hands and nods, but Stiles is still zoned out.

“Stiles!” Stiles winces and Derek frowns. He says again, more quietly, “Wash.” Stiles does, sudsing glitter off his hands slowly and not very effectively.

“Stay.” He turns off the tap and walks out. When he comes back, he’s holding a garbage bag and a dishrag that’s on its last legs.

“Ok. … Ok. Up. Now.” Stiles stands up and looks at Derek hollowly. “For someone drowning in glitter, you don’t look very happy.” Stiles gives him half a smile.

“Shirt and pants in the bag. Careful with the glitter.” Stiles is too tired to be body shy, and he’s just grateful to have someone to tell him how to fix this mess because his only idea is to just sleep right here in the tub. That might be ok.

Derek tries not to laugh out loud at Stiles’s rainbow boxers. At least they’ve been spared the glitter so far.

“Stand back. Don’t touch anything.” He drips a little body wash into the tub and uses the suds to wash the glitter down the drain. He hopes this doesn’t fuck up the pipes because he doesn’t really want to explain this to a plumber.

“Sit. Don’t touch. Lean up. Arms first. Ok. Ok. Legs. Lean forward. Your hair. … You missed … No here. Wait. No. Stop. Let me.” He holds the sprayer with one hand and leans in to wash Stiles’s neck with the other. Stiles recoils.

“What. You missed …” Stiles shakes his head. He points to Derek and then pinches his nose closed. 

Derek huffs. “Shut up. Ran 10 miles. Now my shower’s occupied,” he growls. Stiles laughs silently. Derek sighs and tries to get back to business. Perking up, Stiles grabs at the sprayer and turns it on Derek, soaking his entire front. Derek drops his hands and just stares down at himself for a minute. When he looks up, Stiles has a hand clamped over his mouth. Derek glares as Stiles looks him up and down before quickly turning to stare at his own knees.

“Asshole.” Derek shuts off the water and strips down to his briefs, making sure to set his clothes far from the glitter-infected bag. “Move back,” he says as he sets the sprayer back in the clamp and climbs into the shower.

Stiles doesn’t know what to do. What is happening? Is this his cosmic punishment? What? Why? Whaaaaaaaaaaat??? He lets out a harsh breath and goes to step out of the shower, but Derek grabs his wrist. “Glitter. Wait,” he says, proceeding to shampoo his own hair and wash his pits. Stiles tries very hard to stare at the tiles and not anywhere more appealing. The water sluicing down Derek’s tattoo catches his attention and he has to just shut his eyes and run through his multiplication tables to calm his pulse.

“I smell ok now, Princess Sparkle? Can we finish this?” Stiles hangs his head down and nods slightly, cheeks pink with many layers of shame. Derek manhandles him closer to the spray and then tries to wash the glitter off the back of Stiles’s neck without having to actually touch it and risk contamination.

Stiles wants to teleport away. How is this his life? It’s bad enough he struck out at Pride. A whole parade full of mostly-naked hedonists and none of them wanted to hop the Stiles train. Now he’s stuck in the shower with the hottest guy he’s ever met, but not for any fun reason. And he can’t look. He can’t make this weirder than it always is. He can’t let Derek know he lusts after him. Because once he explains this to Derek, everything is going to get super awkward really, really quickly. So not looking is pretty much the very least he can do. So that’s what he’s doing. Everything about this is torture. But it’s too late to change his mind and just go home and explain it to his dad instead.

“Get glitter on this towel and you’re replacing it.” Stiles nods and wipes off a bit before wrapping it around his waist and stripping off his boxers to drop them carefully in the glitter bomb bag.

“I need a real shower. Go borrow clothes.” Stiles nods again and leaves, closing the door behind him.  He only makes it as far as the couch, though, curling up and falling asleep before Derek even turns the water off.

 

***

 

When Stiles wakes, it’s dark out and he’s swaddled in a blanket. For a minute it’s paradise. Then he remembers where he is and why.

“Calm down. You’re fine.”

Stiles sits up and sees Derek has been sitting in his chair in the corner, reading quietly. Stiles points at him, crosses his arms in an X, points to his ear, then points to his heart and mouths, “RUDE.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “You sound like a herd of deer. Hungry?” Stiles’s stomach answers for him. “Leftover pizza in the oven.”

He almost falls off the couch trying to extricate himself from the blanket, and his towel almost goes with it. Derek chuckles and looks away politely. Stiles sees a toothbrush and some dry clothes on the armrest and slips on the T-shirt and sweatpants and hangs the towel on the bathroom doorknob before going to grab some food. He brings a plate with two slices on it to Derek.

“Ate already. All yours.” Stiles smiles shyly and nods, sitting back down to eat.

“So … ” Stiles points to his throat and tries to squawk out a sound, but nothing. He looks broken.

“… Is the laryngitis related to the glitter?” Stiles nods and smiles wistfully. Derek has no idea how to deal with Stiles when he’s quiet.

“Why can’t you go home?” Stiles shrugs and tilts his head back and forth, which conveys nothing useful to Derek.

Derek catches his gaze and asks, quietly but intensely, “Are you ok?” Stiles nods. “Are you unsafe at home?” Stiles shakes his head vigorously and waves his hands in front of him frantically.

Derek nods. He comes over to sit down on the couch and grabs Stiles hands before his flailing arms hurt either of them. He looks down, and pulls a stubborn piece of green glitter off the back of Stiles’s wrist then looks around for what to do with it. With a smirk, he wipes it on Stiles’s nose. Stiles huffs and tries unsuccessfully to paw if off. Derek chuckles and recaptures his hands. Stiles looks at him with wide eyes.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight if you want.” Stiles gives him a weak smile and nods. “Do you need me to call someone?” Stiles shrugs.

Derek pulls out his phone and calls Scott. “Stiles is here. Lost his voice. Doesn’t want to go home. He’s ok. Don’t come over. Tell the Sheriff something. Tomorrow bring a change of clothes and Chinese food when I call,” he says and hangs up, turning off his phone before Scott can reply.

Stiles lets out the breath he was holding. He leans over and rests his head on Derek’s shoulder. Derek puts a palm on his neck and they just sit for a while. Eventually Derek turns on the TV and Stiles curls up next to him on the couch.

 

***

 

In the morning, Stiles is again tangled in the blanket. Derek taps him on the head. “Brush your teeth. Meet me in the kitchen.” Stiles nods.

When Stiles gets to the kitchen there’s a glass of water and a plate with grilled cheese and some grapes on it for him. Next to that is a blank notebook and pen. Stiles eyes the notebook and eats silently for a few minutes. Derek just waits.

The first thing Stiles writes is: _Sorry I gave your shower herpes_

Derek cocks an eyebrow and waits for an explanation.

_You know Demetri Martin?_

Derek shakes his head and waits.

_“Glitter is the herpes of craft supplies” It like never goes away_

“It better,” he grumbles.

Stiles smiles. _I’ll send you the youtube_

Derek just waits.

Stiles sighs. _Sorry about last night Thanks_  

“Are you ok?”

_Yeah I just wasn’t ready_

“For what? … Stiles, ready for what? … Stiles?”

_To talk to Dad_

“Not a fan of glitter, then?” Derek makes an attempt at a smile.

_Ha ha_

“I need to know if you’re ok before I let you leave.” Stiles sighs. “Want me to call Scott?”

_Not yet_

“Ok. But … are you? ok?”

_Yeah_

_Yeah_

_The glitter was from Pride_

Derek raises an eyebrow but stays silent, relieved that he’s getting some actual information now, even if it doesn’t make sense yet.

_Dad didn’t know I was at Pride He was off yesterday I couldn’t go home like that_

“You’re 19.”

_I know_

“You brought a boyfriend home over Spring Break.”

_He didn’t know_

“… How?”

Stiles just taps the pen a few times and jiggles his leg. Derek puts a gentle hand on his knee. “You’re ok. It’s ok.”

_I tried to tell him once. In high school. Outside Jungle when Jackson was the kanima. He thought I was lying to him like usual_

_I was But not about that_

Derek sighs and shakes his head. He squeezes his knee and then sits back.

_When Omar came home with me Dad asked if he was furry or scaly I made a joke about him watching too many monster movies and dragged Omar out to get dinner_

Derek snorts.

_I’m not hiding it from him I just_

_Maybe he doesn’t want to know Maybe that’s why he never understands He asked last week if I’m still hung up on Lydia and that’s why I haven’t dated anyone_

Derek gathers him up in a hug and doesn’t let go. This is so not his area, but he’s trying to give Stiles what his mother would have if she were here. His collar is getting damp from Stiles’s tears and he doesn’t know how else to help. So he just holds on and waits.

“Sorry,” Stiles mouths at him after pulling away.

Derek shakes his head and squeezes Stiles’s shoulder. “It’s going to be ok. The Sheriff loves you. Has he ever said anything … bad?”

Stiles shakes his head. _His aunt was a lesbian He seemed ok about it_

“So it was just the glitter, then?” Derek tries to joke.

Stiles shrugs and frowns. _Doesn’t seem worth the effort if I’m going to be single Forever_

“Forever.”

_I couldn’t even pick someone up at Pride_

Derek huffs.

_Shut up Not all of us are built like Greek gods_

Derek raises an eyebrow at him and looks Stiles up and down.

Stiles grinds his teeth. _WHAT?_

“You could go to Jungle right now. Wearing that. And get asked to dance by more than one guy.” Stiles quints at him. “Really.”

_You’re not exactly the right person to ask for an opinion Danny thinks I’m hopeless_

“Danny is friends with Jackson. And has a police record.”

Stiles is caught off guard and laughs silently but hard. Derek pulls out his phone to play some music then drags Stiles up from his chair. Stiles gasps but allows him to pull him to his feet. Derek leads him to the middle of the floor and pulls him in, starting to move. Stiles rests his head on Derek’s shoulder and sways with him. He’s not sure what’s going on, but this is the nicest Derek has ever been to him, so he’s not going to stop him.

Derek pulls back and looks Stiles in the eye. “You’re not the scrawny boy from high school who chased after Lydia Martin and couldn’t get a date. Go to Jungle tonight. They might like you even better when you can’t talk,” he smirks.

Stiles pushes at his shoulder. “Asshole,” he says to him silently. Derek rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” he mouths. Derek nods.

When Scott shows up, Derek tells them to take the Chinese food over to the station and have lunch with the Sheriff. Stiles bows to him in thanks.

 

***

 

That night, Derek shows up at Jungle and watches Stiles dance with a string of men of all kinds. He laughs quietly, knowing Stiles would call him “a lurking lurker who lurks.” He can smell that Scott and Allison had been there earlier. They must have left once Stiles started feeling more comfortable. Derek’s relieved to see the worry lines have disappeared from Stiles’s face. He seems to be having a great time.

Derek could turn around and leave, but he’s mesmerized by how smoothly Stiles dances. He’s never seen him move like this before. He’s usually a mess of bumping into and tripping over things, elbows and feet flying everywhere. But like this he’s breathtaking. Derek can’t look away.

A few songs later, Derek taps him on the shoulder. Stiles turns to find Derek with a hand outstretched and an eyebrow cocked. Stiles gapes at him but nods. They dance song after song, moving closer and closer until they’re plastered together and barely swaying. When they announce last call, Derek takes him back to the loft.

Derek calls Scott. “Stiles is here. Take care of the Sheriff. Meet us at the diner for brunch.”

Stiles grins and digs his own soggy phone out of the glittered-destroyed jeans he had left in Derek’s bathroom. He buries it in a bag of rice and hopes for the best.

 

***

 

When Stiles turns his phone on in the morning, he has a ton of missed calls and texts. The most recent is from his father, who is adorably worried that Stiles has been ruining Scott's very new marriage.

_From Dad: They’re still newlyweds. Get off their couch. Be home by 6. It’s a steak night._

_To Dad: Make it 3 steaks. Bringing my boyfriend. He likes it xtra rare_

**Author's Note:**

> Image credit: (badly done manip from) Lesley Bryce, Troix magazine
> 
> Demetri Martin glitter joke: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0l6NR_BKuk


End file.
